The Fugitives
by a-modern-major-general
Summary: Jake was already a Controller when Elfangor's ship crash-landed in the construction site. But his Yeerk didn't turn them in. He wanted to keep this morph-capable human for himself.
1. Chapter 1

The Yeerk places Jake's hand on the morphing cube. Five morph-capable bodies! His slug-mind whirrs with possibilities: quick promotion, a commanding position in the Visser's army, maybe a sub-Vissership? His excitement spreads to the host's nervous system, Jake's hand shaking as he pulls it back. Cassie squeezes his arm gently, trying to reassure who-she-thinks-is-Jake.

Suddenly he realizes Jake's only his second host (first, really, because practice with the Gedds doesn't count). There's no way he'll be able to keep him, no matter how much the Visser rewards him.

When the Visser shows up with Hork-Bajir and Taxxons, he doesn't say anything. He hides behind the wall. Clamps a hand over Cassie's mouth. Knows that if he doesn't speak out now he'll be punished, not rewarded, if he's found out.

He thinks of getting them all infested and having his own little gang. But does he know whom to trust? Any Yeerk could turn him in for keeping such a prize for himself.

He lies awake that night, possibilities running through his head as real-Jake screams at him. If he turns them in secretly, he can't acquire anything - ever - because Jake will escape from his cell in the Yeerk pool. If he secretly sabotages Animorphs missions - ditto. What's the use of having a morph-capable host if he can't ever use the power?

Becoming a human _nothlit_ appeals to him - but it'd just be Jake's body that morphs. He'd still be a slug in a _nothlit's_ brain. Still tied to the Kandrona.

At four in the morning, real-Jake makes a bargain with him. Leave his friends alone. Flee with him to somewhere in South America. And he'll never escape, he'll remain a volunteer-Controller, so long as the Yeerk promises to never give them up.

«No,» says the Yeerk. «You'll escape and warn them. How long would it take to get back here? All you have to do is send an email.»

«Not if you went to the Kandrona in the middle of the day,» Jake replies. «In the middle of the day, they could be anywhere. They wouldn't get the email until it was too late. It's not like any of us have a cellular phone. It would take time to round up all my friends and I wouldn't risk having a single one of them infested.»

«All right,» replies the Yeerk. «But I'm having you placed under strict guard. I'll say you're a troublesome host. And just to be safe - we're going as far away as possible.»

He climbs out of bed and flips on the light. Opens that atlas Jake got from his parents on his tenth birthday and never used. Counts time zones.

«We're going to India,» he announces.

When Tobias shows up five hours later, Jake isn't there. He isn't at Marco's house, at Cassie's barn, or at the mall. He isn't anywhere. When his parents call the police that afternoon, they find his bank account's been cleared out.

Two days later, a letter arrives on Cassie's doorstep.

 _I'm sorry, it says. I can't do it. I can't fight these monsters. There's nowhere to hide but I'm going to try. Please don't put yourself in danger. The Andalites will return soon._

It's the last they hear from him for a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

Tobias is confused.

The Animorphs-who-are-not-Animorphs have split off again. The bond that formed the night of the Andalite is gone. He finds himself watching the others carefully, watching for signs that they remember, too.

Not confused like in a maths test. Confused like his world has shaken up just a little, just enough to make him nauseous and uncertain.

Rachel and Cassie walk around together, close enough to touch hands, talking quietly. Rachel glares daggers at anyone who wanders into earshot. Sometimes, in class, she stops answering a question and stares at the teacher like she can see through his skull.

It's not because of the Andalite. War and mind control and killing, they're simple things. (Relatively.) But people are harder to figure out.

Marco's sarcasm has turned to cruelty, gouging chunks out of anyone who gets too close, asks too many questions about Jake. Tobias can see the teachers glancing at each other, wondering how long they have to be understanding for. A best friend isn't a brother.

Jake has been Tobias' hero ever since he saved him from a group of sophomores and a toilet bowl. He feels silly admitting it, because heroes are for comic books and movies - and alien warriors who fight to save a planet they never lived on. Not for teenagers too weak to stand up for themselves. But that was what he was. No point in denying it.

And then their world split open and they had to fight. Rachel held Cassie's hand but Jake ran. Not like they ran from the Hork-Bajir, but ran for good. How could he stand up to one set of bullies but not the other? It's easier to think of Yeerks like that - bullying slugs that are only winning because nobody's stopped them yet, because they don't have a Jake.

Yeerks are bigger bullies, to be sure. But - Tobias didn't run. Before, he was the coward and Jake the hero. Now it's different. Why?

He's so lost in thought he doesn't notice the group of boys coming towards him. Hands crashing down on his shoulders yank him off his chair and back into reality.

"Tobias! Oops - sorry about that! Such a _shame_ about Jake."

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Cassie's already figured out that Chapman's a Controller.

The afternoon they'd searched the construction site for Jake, terrified the Yeerks had caught him, Rachel had made somejoke about the night before. That the human who'd sent the Hork-Bajir after her had seemed awfully cross, and she'd felt guilty for a minute, like she was about to get detention. And then the voice had a name.

She hasn't told Rachel yet. She's afraid of what Rachel will do.

They'd left Marco and Tobias combing the mall and taken the same path as last night, shaking harder than when they were afraid of rapists and chainsaw murderers. They hadn't said anything. No use in getting all of them infested.

Rachel said she'd go on her own. She didn't mean it. Cassie said she could turn into a horse and protect her. Rachel said they'd ride off into the sunset, like in a terrible romance novel, except her lover was her horse. They giggled wildly, slightly hysterical.

Jokes helped, they learned. Then Rachel made the other joke.

It wasn't as funny.

Jake wasn't at the construction site. There was no blood, even where the Andalite had died. If he'd been taken, they rationalized, the Yeerks would already have come after them. They tiptoed back outside, still shaking a little. Then they remembered Tom saying Jake had definitely come home last night. They felt less brave and a bit silly.

When they got back, Marco yelled. Cassie had the feeling they'd scared him, disappearing like Jake. Rachel yelled back. It took Cassie and Tobias several minutes to calm them down.

Cassie's glad that Jake's gone. She knows the others aren't. But after hours of thinking Jake was captured, infested, even dead - better a fugitive. Better a coward. (Marco's word. Not hers.)

She knows he isn't coming back. If he was even a little uncertain, he'd have sent the letter to Marco. She doesn't know exactly how she knows this.

And she gets why he ran. Five kids, four kids, kids, against an empire of mind-slaves? What chance do they have? She will fight, she knows she will (although she hasn't decided to yet) but it's a suicide mission for sure.

Some vines wrap themselves tightly around tree branches, grow alongside them, both becoming dependent on the other. How long until the line between Yeerk and human blurs? Chapman is the Yeerk and the Yeerk is Chapman. She cannot think of one without the other.

Can you even kill a Yeerk without killing its host?

Does she have to become a mass-murderer in order to save her species?

Some days she feels like copying Jake and running away.

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They could be _anywhere_.

Rachel sits upright at her desk in American History, pen filling in a multiple-choice test but her mind flitting through the classroom, running through names (Jessica Lorraine Rhonda first row Brad DJ Aaron behind them) examining recent interactions rapidly.

No, they're _everywhere_.

Likely percentage? Say twenty percent, that means eight in this class so let's say Nina because she stopped eating fries even though she likes them and she's super skinny and it could be DJ because he used to be really creepy and this term he actually leaves the girls alone and maybe Kimberly who used to be friends with Brooke but is now friends with Nina they must both be Yeerks

Its useless, she'll never figure it out.

No she can she can if she tries hard enough, she's certain the principal's a Controller because Cassie says Thomas J. says he caught Patrick smoking behind the art block and didn't give him a detention so he must have other things on his mind or rather the Yeerk does

She's _afraid_.

She's mean to Jordan and Sara, not normal big-sister-mean but really cruel, sneering at Jordan's math tests and telling Sara her friends don't like her because she's fat. Because Yeerks won't care about things like that and if they get upset enough, if Sara cries enough she makes herself sick, then they won't be Controllers, they'll be her little sisters and if they are Controllers she doesn't know what she'll do

She won't ever admit it even to Cassie but she's so scared.

You can't fight a threat you can't see you can't defend yourself when you don't know who's after you you can't protect your friends when they're in different classes and eight people in their class have Yeerks in their heads.

Rachel wants to fight.

If she can fight she won't be scared any more. She wants it so badly that the urge wraps around her chest, churning out adrenaline for a threat she can't see. When she thinks about fighting it drowns out the fear, plans half-forming in her head, excitement welling up, she thinks she's been waiting for this all her life without knowing.

Turn into an elephant and stomp those vile Taxxons flat. Find Visser Three and turn into a bear and rip his head from his shoulders before he morphs into something crazy. Find one Controller, just one, and follow them and turn into a wolf and kill them all -

No wait, then she's killing humans and she can't kill twenty percent of the world, not on her own. Better dead than a Controller but she can't kill one billion people not to mention Taxxons and Hork-Bajir, and besides which they probably have Yeerks breeding in some pool of sludge and they'll just replace them

(and there's a voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Cassie saying you can't just make that decision for other people just because it's what you'd want)

But there's no other option. She doesn't even know where to _start_.

Fury overtakes her: she clenches her hands uselessly on the side of her desk.

The thought occurs to her that she's checking out her teachers to find out which ones aren't Controllers. Which ones are safe to talk to, safe to take charge and tell her what to do.

She's disgusted with herself.

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Tobias hits the cafeteria floor, hard. A shoe jabs him in the ribs and he curls himself into a ball, sensing rather than seeing the figures leaning over him. Sudden pain in the small of his back shoots up his spine. The floor is grimy and slightly damp. Smells like cleaner. They must have mopped just before lunch. He blinks the crumbs from the corner of his eye.

"Jakey-boy's not around to save you, freak," Josh sneers. "What, did you think you could sneak around without us noticing? You guessed wrong, Toby."

Toby. Tobias hates that name. Perfect for a wimp like him, Josh had said first time he used it.

There's a foot on his back and it's slowly pressing down. Laughter above him.

"They don't want him at home, either."

The old useless feelings are crawling back in. Helplessness. Panic. Wanting to hunch down so small no-one can see him. Same at home. Not like that at school though, after Jake.

"D'ya miss him, then? Eh? Miss lover-boy? Shame he's not around to protect his girlfriend."

A weight lands on his back, crushing the air out of his lungs. Bounces on him, laughing. Others cheering him on.

He'd thought it would last. It lasted two months.

 _Fuck you, Jake,_ he thinks.

He's angry instead of afraid and he pushes himself up, jerking his back and sending Ryan to the floor, gets to his feet shouting, _"Leave me alone you morons!"_ And Ryan's swearing and Juan is laughing at him and saying _Calm down there little one_ but it feels good, it feels right because he can shout back even if it does nothing. And he's not on the floor anymore.

And Rachel is there as well, jabbing a fork into Josh's cheek and he's yelling and Tobias reaches over Ryan and _shoves_ him and he stumbles yelling even more. And then a teacher shows up and they're being hauled out of the lunchroom but who cares? Not Tobias, not Rachel who's grinning madly at him, not Cassie who rolls her eyes as they leave but in a friendly way.

They don't need a Jake. They've got a Tobias and a Rachel, and god help the Yeerks if Marco and Cassie join them too.


	3. Chapter 3

The plane turns sharply as it begins to descent, tarmac rushing past below. Jake's body is thrown against the back of the seat. The Yeerk clutches onto the arm of his seat, his fear flooding the body with adrenaline. They're hurtling fast into the ground, going to slice right through it, how-bad-are-plane-crashes, the perfect angle for a nose-first impact, two seconds away _stupid humans_

…And then the plane pulls up and lands with a bump that jolts him up-down, gliding along the runway as if that had been its intention all along.

Jake is sniggering inside his skull.

Entering the airport, a wave of heat washes over them. Sweat breaks out on Jake's face, human body and Yeerk and human mind recoiling. The Yeerk lifts Jake's arm to wipe his forehead.

«No, _my_ arm.» He mind-whispers it to himself, unsure if his host can hear. He's only had a body, arms and legs and eyes, for a week. It doesn't feel like _his_ yet.

The airport is vast, gates on both sides disgorging crowds of people. They walk fast, not looking at anyone, and then bump into others, muttering "sorry," somewhere to the side. They jostle Jake, too, and the Yeerk stumbles to the wall, carefully watching for a gap to use.

Jake has gone sullen-silent, the euphoria of self-sacrifice fading. The Yeerk is nervous. At any moment, a high-ranking human-Controller could stride through the airport to haul him before the Visser…did anyone see him at the construction site? Do the Council of Thirteen track passports so no Yeerk can go rogue? He'll only relax when he's clear of the airport and can hide himself among the mass of tourists.

He notices his muscles tensing, a slight shakiness in his limbs. It's something they'd warned him about - connecting with the host's nervous system transmits his emotions to the body. It can't be avoided. Although it shouldn't be happening for another month, not until he's settled in.

If these people will just _hurry up_ , and he can get through security and out of here. He feels trapped, easy prey. The air is stale and warm with human breath.

A Yeerk-run airport would be far more efficient. Terminal space built as a ratio to passenger numbers. Guides leading orderly groups off the planes. Human children to be sedated. More escalators, and faster ones (the bottleneck takes another ten minutes). At least three times as many security officials - the line is _endless_ , and the shaking's getting worse. A teenaged girl leans against a post and dozes off.

"Jules! Stop that!" A woman gives her a shake. "I can't watch you all the time. What if someone steals your passport?"

"Relax, Mom." The girl yawns. "It'll be fine. You're worrying too much."

"Well, if your father hadn't left his visa on the plane, I wouldn't be so on edge! We're lucky it wasn't scheduled to leave yet!"

 _Visa_. In their mad rush to leave, bank at nine o'clock and airport at ten, sob story and excuses for a thirteen-year-old travelling alone, they'd forgotten one thing. They're stuck, one little desk between them and freedom.

«You _idiot_ ,» whispers Jake.

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«Morph some animal,» Jake says crossly. «Get out that way. This is too risky.»

«Morph what?» the Yeerk snaps back. «A fly? A cockroach? We'll get squished. And I'm not leaving the rest of the money here. Now be quiet while I focus.»

He braces his hands on the cubicle walls, shuffling further away from the puddle of urine on the floor. Closes his eyes, flicks back half an hour in his memories. Pretends he knows what he's doing.

The walls lurch, and he stumbles forward with a splash. Opens his eyes to find himself a foot taller than before. His T-shirt tightens around his chest as breasts sprout out, and his spine grinds and clicks itself into a new length. His ankles are cold, jeans now several inches too short. Hair falls into his face and sticks to his lips. He's elated. He _did_ it.

Now he's just got to get past security before the real Julia runs into him.

He yanks at his clothes as he exits the stall, trying to yank his shirt back over his stomach. There are three men using the urinals. One looks confused but the other two leer at him. He ducks quickly out the door, dodging a pair of grabbing hands.

«Good thing I thought to take the stall near the door,» Jake says. «You do know what they were after, right?»

«Of course,» he replies, glancing around as he walks back down the corridor. «I know what you're thinking as soon as you think it. You don't need to tell me.»

«Well, then. Guess I won't help you out next time,» his host snaps back. «If you can manage so well without me.»

«Why would I need your help? You forgot the visas. You're useless. And _I_ thought up the solution.»

«Great almighty Yeerk, thinks up great plans and then has to rely on a thirteen-year-old. Good job.»

«Thirteen? By your reckoning, I'm ten. Humans are so helpless.» The squabble feels so very _human_ , and strangely comfortable.

A shorter line than before, but a line nonetheless. Julia isn't there. He wonders if they've given her name to security to keep an eye out for her passport. He digs his nails into his jeans, trying to control his lungs, but they keep filling and refilling on their own, too fast for him. A pair of women stare at him and move away a little, talking too quietly for him to hear. Were they in the queue before? Did they see him pick Julia's pocket? They're security plants, overdressed as tourists. _Filshig_. It's over.

«This is a very weird situation,» Jake muses. «A slug controlling a human disguised as a different human. At least we won't get picked up by Controllers. Hey, how good are Yeerks at telling the difference between humans? Is it like us and animals? There's three black cats on our street and I can never tell them apart. Oh, and you probably smell like pee. That's why they're staring at us.»

There are wet spots on his pants and shoes. A few drips on his bare legs. _Disgusting_. Perhaps one day they'll figure out how to improve the human waste system. Not that he'll be around to experience it.

"Passport, please." The man at the desk is overweight and speaks impatiently. Sweat dots his forehead despite the fan behind him. The Yeerk digs in his pocket and pulls it out.

«Wrong one, moron!» The Yeerk jumps, dropping the passport. It falls face-down on the floor. He stuffs it back into his jeans, shaking even more.

"Sorry. That's my brother's one. Here."

The man looks suspicious. "Why your brother's passport?"

"It's, uh - he's in India already. He accidentally sent it to me. Through the post." He gabbles, prompted by Jake. _Fool_. The skin on his face is heating up on its own. "Is it in order? Here's my visa, I know you need that too." His hands spasm as he hands it over, dropping it on the counter.

«He knows,» hisses Jake. «He's probably calling security already. You idiot. No, don't turn around!»

«Then he would not let us through,» the Yeerk replies, not quite believing himself. His chest hurts from the harsh _thump-thump_ of his heart. He wishes he could turn it off.

Baggage claim. Customs. A final passport check. There's a distance between him and everything around him, even looking at his own hands - is this what it feels like to be a host? Jake swears at him but he can barely hear him, twenty metres to the doors, ten metres, he's not going to make it, legs wobbling not shaking, five metres, they're starting to give way, airport vibrating around him -

His control slips and Jake takes over, straightening up the body, carrying himself out of the airport as the Yeerk cowers in a corner of his brain as if he were a human and Jake the Yeerk.

He doesn't understand the breakdown, doesn't know why it's happening. If only he could talk to somebody, a veteran Controller, to reassure him, explain to him. But he can't. He'll never talk to another Yeerk again. Even in the Yeerk Pool, he'll have to keep to himself. It's just him and Jake now.

He's never felt so alone.


End file.
